Facts don't add up when talking about Andre Johnson

Andre Johnson isn't making connections with the football with the regularity he once did, having totaled only seven catches in his first four games with the Colts.

Photo: Brett Carlsen, Stringer

How can we believe Andre Johnson when he can't even get his own story straight?

How is it possible for the old, famous No. 80 to make one of the NFL's worst teams through Week 4 actually look good?

By sounding absolutely miserable, which the weakened Colts wide receiver did Tuesday during a conference call.

By oddly disputing the facts of an event whose only telling has come straight from Johnson's normally zipped mouth.

And by possessing such embarrassing receiving numbers through four games - seven catches, 51 yards and, of course, no touchdowns - that Bob McNair, Rick Smith and Bill O'Brien seemingly look like the smartest front-office trio in Houston for having allowed Johnson to walk freely into his own football nightmare.

Someday, Dre is going to stride back into NRG Stadium, stand midfield at the 50, see his own smiling face projected upon the oversized jumbotron and be hailed as a Texans hero by 70,000-plus adoring fans.

You'll either be there in person or watching it on TV and we'll all love it.

But that day sure as hell isn't Thursday.

The Texans are a 1-3 mess. Indianapolis is seven points away from being winless and a million miles removed from the saturation of Super Bowl 50. But the real reason "Dre Day" - Colts vs. Texans on "Thursday Night Football" at NRG with Johnson in 81 wearing blue - lacks buzz isn't because Astros vs. Royals in Game 1 of the ALDS is your best viewing option. It's because a 34-year-old man has sounded nothing but childish and self-obsessed since he chose to leave Houston. Then there's the fact he's played worse than his age on the field.

First, let's do a little math.

Johnson claimed the Texans told him he was only going to catch 40 balls this season. Granted, I've never heard of a coach in any level of football accurately predict how many receptions a receiver will have six months before a season starts. But those were Johnson's one-sided words and he's always stuck by them.

At his scorching rate of 1.75 receptions per game - none in the last two, when the Colts barely beat AFC South rivals Tennessee and Jacksonville - a proud wideout who hopes to one day enter the Pro Football Hall of Fame is on pace for just 28 catches in 2015. That's 12 less than he would've supposedly got with O'Brien in Year 2. The unexplainably low numbers also speak to the decline we saw in Johnson in 2014, when he became the clear No. 2 to DeAndre Hopkins, turning into an old-school possession receiver who struggled to create initial separation, then break free after a catch.

Now, let's look at the facts.

Johnson could have stayed with the Texans this season. He was still under contract and the organization that first drafted him had no plans to immediately part ways with its greatest football product since the franchise began.

Somehow, though, all the drama in early March has already become hazy to a man who caught 1,012 passes for 13,597 yards and 64 TDs in 169 games as a Texan.

"If you look back, I was released from the Texans," said Johnson, as his voice grew from barely audible to intentionally intense. "I don't know why you keep asking me, 'I made the decision to leave the Texans.' "

Because he did. Johnson was so frustrated and insulted he wanted out. And he was planning the divorce for months, if not years, before it ever happened.

There were two messy holdouts, the last a horribly designed display of selfishness that was announced during a charity event at a local women's center. There were mishandled contracts, a desire for more guaranteed money and the looming threat of a 2015 paycut, which Johnson deserved. There was the belief that the Texans never surrounded No. 80 with the type of talent - particularly at the quarterback position - that a seven-time Pro Bowler required, even though he put up league-leading numbers in Houston. There was bad personal advice and misleading information from "people close to Johnson," who eventually convinced him he'd be better off without the team that still wanted him.

But ultimately all of this falls on Johnson's 6-3 shoulders, not the Texans' annual mediocrity or those around him. And this is far from the first time an aging, former franchise prize has been the last to know his star no longer shines.

None of this erases Johnson's name in Houston. None of it touches his impact in the community or with the fans who still proudly strap No. 80 to their backs. None of it will matter in a few years, when Johnson retires and returns as the first great Texan. No one will care to remember any of it if he one day puts on a gold jacket and sincerely thanks the city that helped make him.

But "Dre Day" was supposed to be the biggest football day of the year in Houston. Now it's just the cold, bitter aftermath.

Seven months after the unimaginable - Andre Johnson demanding his release, then joining the Colts - the Texans and the old No. 80 deserve each other more than ever. They'll both take the field fighting to save their seasons and prove everyone wrong. And they have one thing to truly play for in a year that's never felt right: pride.

Brian T. Smith is a sports columnist for the Houston Chronicle. He has won multiple Associated Press Sports Editors awards and been honored by numerous journalism organizations. Smith was a Houston Texans beat writer for the Chronicle from 2013-15 and an Astros beat writer from 2012-13. The New Orleans-area native previously covered the NBA's Utah Jazz (The Salt Lake Tribune) and Portland Trail Blazers (The Columbian), among other beats. He is the author of the book Liftoff, which documented the Astros' rebuild and 2017 World Series championship.